In the End
by Kirsh
Summary: As Anduin reels from the news from the Broken Shore, he wonders about the future of the world he lives in. It looks bleak and lonely. But he isn't alone. Even the wolf cub has fangs and claws, and the will to use them.


_My father is dead._

It was this thought that Anduin had as Genn Greymane handed him a scroll sealed with blue wax and the symbol of the Alliance. He was proud of himself that his hand didn't shake as he took the scroll. He was proud of himself that he didn't start crying in front of the heroes of the Broken Shore, in front of the soldiers that had survived, in front of Genn and the other leaders of the Alliance. He was proud that his voice didn't shake as he thanked Genn for fulfilling Varian's wishes, as he thanked the Alliance for their valiant effort on the Broken Shore, as he then dismissed them all so that he could mourn alone.

 _My father is dead._

Anduin sat in the throne in Stormwind Castle, feeling small and insignificant in the seat that his father had always occupied. The hall was empty save for the guards down by the entrance to the room, who were there because Genn had told them to stay. It wasn't so much that Anduin would be in danger, or that he needed to be watched, but so that he could have peace in order to come to grips with the fact he was, now, the King of Stormwind. He stared at the scroll in his lap, unsure if he wanted to break the seal to read it. If he did, it would only confirm the fact that his father was gone, that he was an orphan, that he was barely twenty years old and king of an entire nation, never mind an entire faction.

 _My father is dead. He sacrificed himself so that the Alliance could survive. So that I could survive. So that Azeroth could survive._

There was a commotion down by the entrance to the throne room. Anduin's fingers halted just under the wax seal as he heard it, looking up to see the guards struggling with a dark-skinned figure dressed in the leather and mail of a hunter. Gripping the scroll, Anduin stood and shouted, "Let her through!"

The guards looked back at him with confused expressions, but they didn't argue with their king. The woman shook off their restraining hands and all but stomped toward Anduin and the throne. Anduin watched Shalya come, watched her eyes roam his face, watched how her steps became more gentle and slower, as if she were trying to figure out his mental state. She paused only a few feet away from him, waiting for his permission to approach. It wasn't so much about his new rank - Anduin knew that Shalya could care less about status and rank and such things - but it was more about how close he wanted someone to be to him right now, even the woman he loved.

Anduin sat back down in the throne, as much permission as Shalya would get. She stepped closer, then sat on the floor beside the throne, her back to Anduin. He stared down once more at the scroll in his hands, and he realized he was shaking.

"I heard."

Shalya's voice was quiet yet sounded like thunder in the empty room. Anduin looked up at her. He smiled weakly. "How could you not?"

She turned to face him, her features schooled into an emotionless expression. She said nothing, only stared at him. He wasn't sure what his own face looked like, but he knew his eyes were starting to water. He ducked his head and broke the seal on the scroll before his willpower completely failed him. His father's scrawling hand greeted him, and his eyes roamed over the last words his father would ever say to him. He read it twice, then once more, and Anduin finally began to cry. It was silent, full of pain and mourning. A tiny voice cried out inside him that it wasn't fair, that this wasn't supposed to be how things were, that he wasn't ready to take up the mantle his father had left behind. How long he cried, he wasn't sure, but at some point Shalya had rose from her seat on the floor and had squeezed herself onto the throne with him, wrapping her arms around him and pulling him close to her.

She stroked his hair and shoulders, held him tight against her as he let out every emotion he had bottled up since Genn and the other Broken Shore veterans had returned, since he knew that Varian wouldn't be coming back. Shalya said nothing. She simply let him cry, her presence enough to tell him that he wasn't as alone as he believed himself to be right now. Her warm touch eventually soothed him enough to stop crying - or perhaps he had just run out of tears - and he just rested against her, listening to her heartbeat as he stared at scroll in his hands.

"My father is dead." Anduin whispered into Shalya's shoulder. "He sacrificed himself so that Genn and everyone else would live. So that the Alliance would survive. Azeroth, too."

Shalya looked down at Anduin's hands and at the scroll there. He knew she was reading the scroll because she was so quiet, though he could feel a new tenseness in her body that told him she was experiencing great emotion. He pulled away from her chest, sitting upright, and wrapped an arm around her to keep her close. Shalya brushed away a few tears with the back of her hand and took a deep breath.

"Since coming here," she began, "I've learned that, even if you cut off a wolf's head, it still has the power to bite. I'm sure that your father took as many demons as he could with him."

Anduin laughed; it sounded helpless. "I know he did."

"But he has a point."

He looked at her questioningly.

Shalya gestured to the scroll. "You taught him that peace is what everyone should aspire to. But peace doesn't just fall into your lap. You have to work to achieve it. You have to work to keep it. You still fight, though it's with words rather than weapons."

"Even if the Horde and Alliance now have a common enemy, it doesn't mean they'll work together forever." Anduin pointed out.

Shalya shook her head. "No. But they will work together for as long as it takes to survive."

"That's all it is now, isn't it? Surviving."

Shalya turned her head away from him and stared out over the empty throne room. Anduin followed her gaze, staring down toward the guards that were pointedly keeping their backs to them. He didn't doubt those guards were listening, straining their ears to hear every bit of his and Shalya's conversation. The silence grew between them for a while, and Anduin began to wonder what Shalya was thinking.

Then she said, "It isn't just about surviving. It's about preserving the world we live in for the future. So that our children will have a chance to exist. So that our children won't have to fight the battles we have."

Anduin reached for Shalya's hand and twined his fingers with hers. "'To preserve peace, you must be willing to fight'." He quoted, the scroll crumpled in his other hand. "To fight not only for yourself or those alongside you, but for the future of those who have yet to be born."

Now she looked at him, a small smile on her face. "That is the legacy your father has now placed in your hands, and in the hands of all of us, Horde and Alliance alike. We have a duty now to fight to preserve the peace our children will enjoy. As those who come before, it's our responsibility to ensure the next generation doesn't have to struggle the way we have struggled."

Anduin leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. Shalya returned the kiss, clutching tight to Anduin's hand. Then he pulled back from her, cupping her cheek and watching her with eyes full of love. She watched him back, her eyes filled with the same expression, and filled with the fiery determination that had made her such a fierce and independent warrior. Then Anduin rose, bringing Shalya with him, and holding onto each other's hands, together they walked out of the throne room. Together, they stood before the sea of Alliance and looked out upon the people who would fight to the death to ensure their world was not destroyed, to ensure they had a future, and that they would be able to continue to live in their own way, on their own terms.

Anduin stared out at the people he now ruled over, and held tighter to Shalya's hand. He began to speak, giving an off the cuff speech that he hoped would inspire the men and women of the Alliance to fight with all the fierceness and mercilessness that they could. He spoke of the sacrifice his father had made. He spoke of the hope his father had gifted not just him with, but had gifted to the entirety of the Alliance. He spoke of how the Alliance, along with the Horde, had to work, together, in order to fight back the demons and protect Azeroth. When he finished, the entire city of Stormwind was blanketed in silence.

Shalya squeezed his hand back, gave him a fierce smile, thrust their twined hands into the air and screamed, "FOR THE ALLIANCE! FOR AZEROTH!"

"FOR THE ALLIANCE!" screamed the crowd, their voices a deafening roar. "FOR THE ALLIANCE! FOR AZEROTH!"

 _My father is dead._ thought Anduin, watching the roaring crowd with an incredible sense of satisfaction and pride. _The great Wolf of Stormwind, Varian Wrynn, Lo'gosh, may be gone, but I am still here. I am not my father, but I am still the son of the wolf. I have my own fangs and claws. They may not be visible all the time, as my father's were, but they are as sharp and as deadly as any wolf's. I will use them to fight back the Legion. For my father, for the Alliance, for the Horde, and for Azeroth._


End file.
